


Some Secret Place

by ShinyGreenApple



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Another time/another life, Bubble Bath, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, GingerRoseWeek2020, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Soft Armitage Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyGreenApple/pseuds/ShinyGreenApple
Summary: Stuck up, arrogant, disinterested. Just a few of the words many could use to describe Armitage Hux. He shows vulnerability to one person and one alone.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 15
Kudos: 74





	Some Secret Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is shameless indulgent fluff. Enjoy.

Normally, Rose could manage to pull a smile onto her face when she entered the house after work, whether anyone was there or not. Even if Millicent had shredded her latest craft project and proudly left it sitting on the threshold to be stepped on. But today was different, and no smile would come, nor was she willing to use the energy to try and conjure something that just wasn’t there. As she toed off her shoes, her eyes went to the portrait on the wall – their wedding day. It had been two years but still only felt like yesterday. It at least made her smile inwardly, even if her face remained lined with stress and aggravation.

Hux had been home for a short time now, and was lounged in his favorite spot, the smell of his godforsaken bitter tea filling the house. It always amused him how much she disliked it when it was such an integral part of his own unwinding routine. She would never admit it, but even though she loathed the taste, the smell of it was one of her favorite things in the world, simply because it reminded her so thoroughly of him. He looked up from his Kindle at the sound of her entering the house and let his eyes wander to the door, frowning when he took in her appearance.

“Don’t get up,” she sighed wearily, having caught movement from the corner of her eye. He had looked so comfortable sitting there, having swapped his contacts out for tortoiseshell rimmed glasses, Millie curled contentedly on his stomach where he lay on the couch.

“You’re not the boss of me.” he countered almost defiantly, but decided to remain in place just the same, watching patiently with one eyebrow raised as she let her handbag drop to the floor. Her coat followed. “I’ll get those later,” he muttered quietly.

“Don’t worry about it!” she snapped, stalking away from the door quickly and almost past him; a nimble hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist. She made a weak attempt at wriggling away before just staring at him, somewhere between annoyance and slight disgust.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look at him that way and it was a bit unsettling. He did the first mortifying thing that came to mind and jutted his lower lip out, eyes wide.

Her expression morphed immediately, lips suddenly parting, eyes staring in disbelief for just a few moments before she visibly melted, resignedly giving into his touch and allowing him to pull her down against him, Millicent leaping out of the way and making a beeline for Rose’s craft room.

“That was a cheap shot,” she muttered wearily, closing her eyes as he pulled her head close against his chest.

“You gave me no choice,” he replied, removing his glasses and placing them on the coffee table.

“I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“You _are_ bothersome,” he sighed. “But that’s why I married you.”

She smiled in spite of herself, curling up tightly and wrapping her arms around his torso, reluctantly letting herself enjoy the feeling of her ear against his chest, where the sound of his breathing, the beat of his heart, the rumble of his voice culminated in a symphony of familiarity, safety, and comfort. “You’re stupid,” she mumbled.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, hand going to the tie in her hair and gently tugging it out. “Another reason I married you, I needed someone smart to balance out my egregious lack of intelligence.” He slipped the elastic onto his wrist and went to work combing her hair out with his fingers.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the chills that went up her spine at his touch; having her hair played with was one of her greatest weaknesses and he was always all too happy to exploit it.

“Now what was so horrible that you’ve come home and been here for nearly two whole minutes without smothering me in affection?” He asked softly, winding a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Oh!” she frowned guiltily, immediately pulling herself up and pressing her lips against his. “I’m sorry, Pook.”

“I was only teasing, love,” he smiled, pressing a noisy kiss to her forehead. “Answer my question.”

“Just . . . the usual. Everyone was just in _top form_ today,” she replied wearily, laying her head against him again and tracing lines over his neck where his half-buttoned shirt left it exposed.

He reached for his mug, still steaming, and offered it to her.

“Ew!”

He laughed, knowing that was exactly how she was going to react, before taking a sip himself. “Always makes me feel better, anyways. Sangria, then?” he prodded.

“We’re out,” she grumbled. “We drank it the last time Rey and Ben were over for dinner, remember?”

“Distinctly. I always drink more when I’m forced to tolerate their presence. I bought more on the way home this afternoon. Now come on,” he poked at her, gesturing for her to get up. “Off with your clothes, I’ll run us a bath. I mean it, get _off_ me.” He managed to untangle himself from her grasp long enough to get up when she stood up on the couch, threw her arms around his neck and leaped into his arms yet again. _“_ _Oof!”_

“Carry me.”

“Christ, how old are you?” he growled, attempting to pry her off of himself again with no success, sighing in defeat and heading towards the master bathroom. “Fine, but I’m grabbing your ass the whole way.”

“Deal.”

**

She couldn’t help but smile as she pulled her hair up again and pinned it into place with a stick while she watched him fuss about with getting the water the exact right temperature and lit a candle here and there. Anyone who knew Hux on a surface level would tell you that he was stuffy and aloof and almost cold. He and Rose had initially rather disliked one another when they first met, but she would see him more often in the same social circle, especially once Rey had started dating Ben; for being total opposites, the two men were surprisingly good friends and Ben often brought his slightly arrogant redheaded companion with him to dinners and outings. In fact, Ben had been the only one _not_ surprised when sunny, optimistic Rose Tico took up with his former coworker and roommate while most others were shocked and even slightly horrified, worried that Hux would quickly suffocate her with his propriety and practicality. Rose was spontaneous and messy and sometimes loud.

Each of their differences complimented the other’s beautifully.

“There,” he announced, satisfied, the tub almost full, fluffy suds coming just close enough to the top not to spill over. “I’m going to get your blasted sangria and some glasses. You had _better_ be naked and in that bath when I get back.”

“I’ll think about it,” she teased.

He stopped on his way out the door, eyes narrowed, reaching down to tip her chin up towards him. “Naked,” he growled.

She smiled to herself again as she undressed; she loved that there _was_ a soft, caring, even vulnerable side to him and she loved it even more that she was the only one privy to that side of him. That the rest of the world could typically only see him as a bit of a stuck up twat brought giddy delight. The bath was just a tad on the hot side, she thought, as she stepped in, but no matter, that just meant it would be comfortable for longer. She let herself sink into it, sighing deeply as the stress of the day seemed to seep away with every inch of water, and closed her eyes. She had begun to slip into a comfortable state of relaxation, just beginning to be able to let go of the tension her coworkers and customers had caused her when Hux returned.

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen asleep on me already,” he scolded softly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, leaning over the edge of the tub, arms crossed.

“Good girl,” he smirked, handing her a glass.

“What else have you got in that bag there?”

“ _Don’t be nosy_ , all in good time,” he assured her, making quick work of his shirt and tossing it into the hamper. “Now, behind or across from?”

“Behind,” she replied.

“Knew you’d say that,” he smiled, discarding the rest of his clothes. “Budge up, then.”

She happily obliged, making room for him to join her and leaning languidly against him when he was settled, pulling his arms around her. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Little Dove,” he murmured. “We vowed ‘for better or for worse’. That just happened to be a moment of ‘worse.’ God knows you’ve put up with enough of mine. Think of all the rude things I said to you the first few times we met.”

“I knew you didn’t mean any of them.”

“How?” he asked, bemused, retrieving the second glass and taking a sip.

She shrugged. “You just always had this little look on your face afterwards. A tiny little cringe.”

“You saw a ‘tiny little cringe’? Even the time I called you an over-caffeinated hobbit?”

“You still call me that.”

“Too true. But now you’re _my_ over-caffeinated hobbit.” He grinned down at her, staring fondly for a moment before leaning down and kissing the top of her head.

“Who’d have ever thought that sometimes I’d be the grumpy one and you’d be doing your best to cheer me up, keeping me grounded?” She put her arm over his and pulled it tighter against her.

“Don’t worry, love. We’ll continue to keep our shameful secrets from the prying eyes of the public. Good God, did you drink that already?”

“Yeah . . .” she cringed, looking at her empty glass and going slightly red. “Told you, bad day.”

He sighed heavily, reaching for the paper bag he’d brought with him and holding it’s contents in front of her face.

“You didn’t!” she gasped. “Truffles? You know those are really only for Christmas and my birthday. Why now?”

“You seemed … not you when I messaged you at lunch.”

“You got that from a _text_?”

“It would seem your revolting talent for empathy is rubbing off on me. I know how my little dove’s messages usually read. This one was off. Open up,” he ordered softly, having unwrapped one of the sweets and held it to her lips. “Dark chocolate, it’s good for you, you’ll feel better.”

“Okay, Professor Lupin,” she smiled, snatching it from him with her teeth.

“Easy, you'll bite my finger!” he laughed.

“Maybe I wanna bite your finger,” she countered, talking around the candy. “I like biting you.”

“Likewise, but just eat your chocolates for now, will you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

For a while they just took turns feeding each other, even though Hux wasn’t really very fond of sweets, at least that’s what he told himself. When they had both reached their limit, he set the bag aside and nudged her forward, soaping up his hands and rubbing firm, slow circles against her shoulders and back. Even if she hadn’t been too tired to protest, she wouldn’t have. This was that same secret side of him coming out into the open again, unafraid of being judged soft or weak, unafraid to show affection – or receive it. And even after having been with him for nearly four years, she was as enticed at his touch as ever, maybe even more so now; she always wanted more of him. Reaching up, she laced her fingers with his, squeezing lightly before turning to face him and pulling him down for a kiss, a lazy opening and closing of mouths until the slow buildup no longer satisfied and it deepened. She lazily pulled away, sucking his lower lip, and glanced down lasciviously.

“Would you look at that,” she whispered. “Nearly all the bubbles have gone.”

“One more Harry Potter reference from you and I’m going to turn you over my knee.”

“Threaten me with a good time, Armitage Hux,” she grinned, staring at him adoringly.

“At any rate, the water’s getting cold. Let’s see if we can get up without slipping to our death, or the emergency room, yeah?”

***

“I’m gonna fall asleep if you do that for much longer, you know," she mumbled, lying on her stomach in their bed with him straddled atop her. 

“I do know,” he replied, continuing to rub lotion onto her back with a delightfully firm, warm touch. “What’s your point?”

“I just thought . . . y’know.”

“That I had ulterior motives?”

“Something like that,” she laughed softly.

“You give and you give and you give enough at that wretched job of yours all day without coming home to me wanting from you as well.”

“You’re different,” she replied, turning over and taking him by the hand. “I actually enjoy giving to you.” She pulled him close for a lingering kiss. “And what you give back never disappoints.”

“You flatter me, sweet girl,” he sighed playfully.

"I’m 30”, she laughed. “Not exactly a girl.”

“Mmm, you’re _my_ girl. That’s all that matters.”

She was about to roll her eyes before the small epiphany hit. “Yeah . . .” she replied softly, smiling. “Yeah it is, isn’t it?”

“I never lie,” he replied with bravado, planting a noisy kiss to her forehead. “I’m yours, and you mine, and whatever the hell else Rhaegar and Lyanna said.”

“Now who’s making pop culture references?” she laughed sleepily as he replaced the lotion bottle on their nightstand and switched off the light. “But don’t make me think about Thrones, I’m still not over the horrible ending.”

They wordlessly slipped beneath the covers, Rose burrowing against him as usual, head tucked beneath his neck. He smiled softly, stroking her hair as she drifted into an exhausted, content sleep. He closed his eyes, pulling her close with a soft little sigh.

“As you wish.”


End file.
